A Superfamily Indeed
by Aeron Morazaky
Summary: Spider-man finds himself in trouble, only to be saved by the Avengers. Will they accept him, or simply ask him to leave once he heals?
1. Chapter 1 -Family Meeting-

**Hey guys! Short intro to this all. I haven't been on FanFiction for very long yet, so I don't have many stories. Just bear with me and I'll try to make it enjoyable! Now to the story…**

Peter ran down the length of an alleyway, turning to sprint down the next one, nearly taking out several trash bins in the process. The growling behind him was getting louder with each step, and even in his Spider-man outfit, which had absolutely NO drag, it wouldn't work. His web shooters were useless, they decided to malfunction on him, and even with his sticking abilities to stick to walls, the creature chasing him _would_ catch him. The low growl came again, and this time he could hear the panting of an animal's breath, before a shadow flew overhead. He ducked, trying to turn around the way he came, but claws caught his hip, pulling him back and flinging him into a large, metal trash bin.

He let out a short howl of pain, blood seeping out of the new wound, luckily not squirting, or he would have a problem. The creature turns towards him, long fangs dripping with saliva, or what should saliva. When the strange liquid hit the cement, a small line of steam rose from it, giving Peter the impression it was a type of acid. It had a cat-like face, but its body resembled a kind of powerful dog, and it had the tail of a scorpion. Speaking of which.

He saw a glint of light, and barely had time to roll to the side when the scorpion tail sank into the metal where he had just been. The cat face let out a snarl, and faster than even Peter's spider-senses could react, the claws came down again, pinning him like a mouse under the large paw. He gritted his teeth, the claws stabbing into his chest, while the weight began to build on his chest and ribs.

Its paws were large enough to cover a grown man's chest and ribs, let alone Peter's. It towered over him, red eyes glinting in the dim lighting, and saliva dripped onto Peter's shoulders and face, making him scream again. The scorpion tail rose once again to strike, but before the large animal could deliver the killing blow though, a flickering object came spinning from the darkness, slamming into the animal's side, pushing it off of Peter. He lay there for several seconds, black dots dancing in his vision, before it occurred to him that the sounds of a fight were coming from the side. He slowly began to pull himself to a sitting position, almost immediately regretting it as the deep claw wounds on his chest, and he believed to be broken ribs, screamed in pain.

He pushed himself up against the trash bin, out of breath as a strong burning sensation came over his face and shoulders, probably the strange acid that had come from the animal's mouth. He kept pushing himself, slowly getting to his feet and heading towards the sounds of the fight, which were dying down. He was half slumped against the alleyway wall as he moved, his eyes widening under his mask at the sight of Captain America, Iron Man, Black Widow, and Hawkeye had surrounded the enormous creature, even making the Captain seem small. It lay on its side, twitching feebly as its life force slowly left it. Iron Man landed, turning to the others,

"Well, that was rather easy." He stated, his metal face-plate coming up to reveal Tony beneath it. Captain America turned towards the billionaire,

"Because you blasted its tail off." He said, and when Peter looked more closely, the end of the scorpion tail had indeed been blasted off, "Besides, it was being distracted when we had first gotten here." The soldier then turned towards Peter, who was finding it harder to keep his eyes open,

"Spider-man?" Hawkeye asked, "Ummm…awkward." He muttered, receiving a slap on the back of the head from Black Widow. Captain America approached Peter, who had suddenly collapsed to his knees,

"Get over here you guys, he's injured." The captain ordered, and before Peter could stop him the Captain was trying to detach his arm, which was pressed against the worst of the claw marks on his chest,

"That doesn't look rather fun." Tony muttered, moving forward, "He'll need Bruce immediately, and its closer."

Peter was slowly slipping into unconsciousness, and by this point he couldn't hear what they were all saying. He didn't really care though, since the pain of his wounds wasn't so bad anymore. As Captain America, _the _Captain America, lifted Peter over his shoulder, the pain came back twice as bad, and there was a strangled sound, was that him? Before he finally managed to slip into a blissful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 -Plans for Awakening-

**Pretty sure that was a sucky ending, it'll get better! Also I'm warning you now, I'm not used to playing a large group of people. **

When the group had gotten back to the Stark Tower, towing an unconscious Spider-man along with them, Bruce's eyes nearly burst from his head at the sight of the bloody hero,

"What in the name of all things gamma did you run into?!" Bruce demanded, and everyone winced. He never usually got angry, or at least showed it, but when he did, everyone ran for cover,

"It was a chimera of some sorts." Tony said, answering Bruce's question as Steve pulled off his mask, while laying Spider-man on a medical table. Bruce sighed, immediately moving to the young hero. His eyes were drawn to his face, which seemed to be smoking,

"Oh dear…" he murmured, touching one of the acid spots. Spider-man stirred, but didn't wake. Bruce pulled his hand away, shaking his hand wildly, "Get the mask off now!" he ordered Steve, grabbing a towel to wipe the acid away. Without hesitation Steve pulled the mask off, revealing Peter beneath, spots on his face slowly being eaten away from the acid.

Bruce cursed under his breath, beginning to work to remove the acid before it could do any permanent damage. Steve noticed more spots on Spider-man's shoulders, and began to see if he could remove the young hero from the spandex entirely. Natasha and Clint had left after Bruce's outburst, both on their own missions to report to Fury. Tony had also slipped away from everyone's watchful eyes, most likely to get into the liquor.

By the time Bruce had finished with Spider-man's face, Steve had removed the suit down to Spider-man's waist, where they could easily see the acid on his shoulders, and the claw marks. Bruce hurried to get the acid from his shoulders, and Steve stopped to get a good look at their patient's face. He wasn't even legally an adult, not much older than fifteen, and he shook his head, sighing as he found out that the gloves could come off, as well as the boots.

The two worked side by side, or at least until Bruce had finished with the acid, then Steve was shooed away with a glare. Reluctantly he left to find the others. While he stepped in the elevator, it occurred to him that only Bruce and Steve knew what Spider-man looked like underneath. He sighed, knowing that Tony would do anything to know. He of course couldn't let that happen to the kid. As soon as the doors opened, he realized that this was the time to start showing his protective side. Tony was arguing with Clint on the possibility of recruiting him for S.H.I.E.L.D., or in Tony's case, if they should unmask the kid,

"We're not doing either." Steve stated, storming over to the two and resisting the urge to smash both their thick skulls together. Tony was the first to say anything, turning to Steve,

"And you would say this because?..." he asked, leaving a pause at the end for an answer,

"He's no older than eighteen. He has to have family somewhere, scared sick for him." The captain snapped at the billionaire, crossing his arms like he usually did when he was saying something final,

"Natasha started earlier than that." Clint stated, receiving a glare from Steve,

"Because she had no choice." He stated,

"I heard that." Came Natasha's voice from a room over,

"No offense." He called back, receiving a 'none taken', "The point is," he continued, "This boy is fighting for a reason, not just because he has some superpowers and he wants to look cool. He wears a mask for a reason."

The talk died down after that, and Clint sighed, knowing the Fury wouldn't want to accept anyone younger than eighteen into their ranks. It occurred to the hawk that the boy was most likely still in school. Steve ran a hand through his hair,

"Now, let's all just settle down for the night, it's late. We'll deal with the kid in the morning."

Peter's eyes snapped open, and he jolted upright with a gasp. His body was covered with cold sweat, and he was shaking horribly. He winced as pain jolted through him, and with a quick look-over he saw that his chest and hip area were covered with thick bandages, while spots all across his shoulders, and as he felt his way up, along his neck and several areas on his face were covered with smaller bandages. Thicker than band-aids but more heavy duty. He carefully let his memories of what had happened in the alleyway come back to him, and it finally settled on one simple fact,

"The Avengers helped me."

He swallowed hard, looking around. The area he was situated in seemed to be some sort of lab, filled with science equipment that made him want to geek out, and his bed, more like a hospital bed, was resting at the edge of the room. His eyes trailed around the room, memorizing and looking for exits. One entire wall was made of glass, and with several minutes of trying to move with the thick bandages on his injured leg, he hobbled over to the glass, getting an amazing view of Manhattan. He sucked in a low breath, whistling.

When he was done, he turned back, realizing that he didn't have his phone or anything. He silently cursed to himself, and also realized that he was only in his boxers. He face palmed, sitting back onto the bed before his eyes widened, and then it _really_ hit him. He was only in his boxers. His suit was gone! He started to make a move to look for it, but the door to what looked like an elevator opened, and a slightly scrawny man came through with Captain America. He swallowed hard, watching them as they approached him,

"We don't want to sound too bad, but we had a camera set up, and saw you were awake." Steve said, looking the boy up and down. The look in his eyes reminded the soldier too much of what it he looked like in the middle of the night after a nightmare,

"It's fine." He said, looking down at his hands. Peter looked up to see the tinier man approaching; through he actually had quite a bit of muscle when closer up,

"I'm Bruce Banner, welcome to the Stark Tower." He said, offering his hand. The name rang bells as Peter reached forward and shook his hand, his eyes lighting up,

"You mean _the_ Bruce Banner?" Peter asked slowly, receiving a nod from the scientist. A grin popped out of nowhere, "Holy crap…I've read your work…it's amazing!"

And that's how Captain America began to learn about exactly what gamma radiation was as his eyes began to glaze over in the presence of two science geeks.


	3. Chapter 3 -Complications-

**Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm going to get at LEAST one chapter in a day, or die trying (in my case, cough my lungs out trying) **

**Or as my motto goes 'one chapter a day keeps the haters away'**

After an hour or so of talking geek, Steve managed to slip into the conversation, and back to serious matters,

"Okay then, back to what I was originally going to be saying." Steve started, shooting a glare over to Bruce, who merely shrugged and grinned, "Only me and Bruce have seen you without your mask, and even without it, no offense, we have no idea who you might be."

Peter shrugged, regretting it with a wince, "No offense taken, I'd rather keep it that way, if you don't mind." He muttered. The captain nodded,

"Of course, it's your decision." He said, pulling a chair over to sit in it, "We've also been going through some stuff, and we were wanting you to call whoever you may live with to tell them why you've been gone for so long."

Peter's head snapped up, his eyes widening. He forgot about Aunt May! He started to go into a panic, but Steve handed him a phone,

"It isn't too late, don't worry." He said, and Peter took the phone, checking the time before going into the dial feature. It was only eight, and on a Thursday, so Peter could make up the excuse of going to school early for an assignment or to study. With quick, thin fingers he typed out and sent his Aunt May a message, not wanting to call and wake her up. Too many questions always arose,

-_Hey Aunt May, its Peter texting from a friend's phone, I left mine at home and left early for an assignment, srry if I worried u_-

He didn't expect an answer, since Aunt May never usually got up early, unless she was having trouble sleeping, so he handed the phone back to Captain America, who tucked the phone into his jacket,

"Alright then, so to your wounds." Bruce said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "The acid in the chimera's saliva hasn't done too much damage, it won't scar, but the claw marks are deep, and needed stitching. Besides that, you have three cracked ribs, a cracked collarbone, and the claw wounds on your hip needed stitching as well."

It took a moment for Peter to completely take in the extent of the injuries before he nodded,

"I have faster healing than most people, I should be fine within a week, two at the most." He said, grinning at Bruce, who looked dumbfounded. Steve's eyes flickered with horror and surprise. Was this boy the result of an experiment, or had he just been born with these…gifts?

"You still need to rest for at least today, so no more getting up." Bruce instructed, and Peter sighed, while his stomach decided to make itself known to everyone. He blushed while Steve chuckled,

"I'll get you something to eat." He said, starting off towards the elevator,

"Where has my suit gone to?" Peter asked Bruce, who blinked and moved to his desk, taking the suit from a small box on the table,

"Here you are, its rather torn up." He stated, but Peter waved it away. As long as the mask was intact, he could make a new one, though it could take a few days. He managed to control the hospital bed up so he could sit up comfortably, and began to access the damage.

It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be, considering he had just faced a weird chimera cat lord. Parts of the mask were melted away, but nothing too big that he couldn't patch up. After making sure that he didn't have to make a new suit, he carefully disconnected the web shooters, frowning in disgust at them. Bruce had been working off to the side, and heard the grunt of displeasure, seeing the strange machines,

"What is that, if you don't mind me asking?" the scientist asked, and Peter looked up,

"They're my web shooters. And they malfunctioned on me." He said, muttering the last bit. The scientist pulled on a pair of glasses, rolling his chair over to Peter's side,

"You made those?" he asked, and Peter nodded,

"Took a lot of work, and a lot of swearing, frustration, spider webs, and electricity." Peter's mind traveled back to when he had made them barely a year before, of when he had been electrocuted, and when the spider webs had decided to hug his face and not let go,

"That is some very nice work." Bruce said, "Do you need anything to repair them?"

After close inspection Peter nodded,

"A screwdriver wouldn't be too much to ask for, would it?" he asked, and Bruce smiled softly, handing one to the young superhero.

"What…in the name of..." Steve breathed out, returning with a plateful of food. What he found, was not pretty. Peter's face was covered with spider webs, and the young boy was trying his best to disconnect them from his mouth so he could breathe, while Bruce was madly trying to disable a device that was continuously shooting out more spider webs. After a few seconds of struggling, Steve sighed, walking forward and setting the plate on a table before walking over and tearing the webs from the boy's face, grunting with the effort.

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, snatching up the device and grabbed a nearby screwdriver, jamming the tool into the device and thoroughly shutting it down,

"What was that all about?" The captain asked, glaring at both the men. Bruce sighed, while Peter winced,

"My stupid web shooters keep malfunctioning." Peter muttered, picking the last bits of web from his cheek and chin. Steve crossed his arms, shaking his head,

"No wonder you were running and not swinging when we found you." He said, going back to get the boy's food. Peter grunted, going back to working on the strange devices that Peter called his 'web shooters',

"Has that happened before?" Bruce asked him, going back to his own work nearby. The teenager munched on the chips on the plate, shrugging,

"A few times when I started out, but not this badly." He muttered, and Steve knew the look he had in his eyes. He did live in a large tower with two scientists. The look said he was barely listening, and was more focused on his work than anything,

"Well, don't hurt yourself, and for god's sake don't encourage him." The captain put the first part towards Peter, but the last part towards Bruce, who looked offended, and before he could reply JARVIS came onto the speakers,

"_Sir, Tony has begun to override the lock for this floor. Shall I ask him not to do so?_" Bruce's shoulders slumped,

"It's going to be a long week." He muttered, heading over to the elevator to take care of the problem.


	4. Chapter 4 -Cravings-

**If anyone has any ideas for plots, or wants to point out something in my writing, please do! It's been a while since I've really sat down to watch any of the Avengers movies, so if I put something that isn't supposed to be there, let me know so I don't do it again and I'll see if I can fix it! Thank you so much for reviews! (I'm currently writing this story and another story at the same time, so thank you for being patient) **

**And on to the story~**

By the time that school would be ending, Peter was doing fine. The pain was more bearable, and he could walk on his leg without a limp. From Bruce's instruction, he had to at least take that night off from fighting, to make sure nothing got infected or torn open, so reluctantly Peter had agreed, reminding himself that he had to take time to mend his suit and get caught up with schoolwork anyway. He thanked both Steve and Bruce for keeping his identity secret, and they both shrugged at exactly the same time, scaring Pete,

"It isn't our secret to tell." Steve had replied, and Bruce had simply nodded, giving Peter a warm smile. He had grinned back, shrugging on some clothes that Bruce was allowing him to use on his way home,

"I'll swing by a return these." He said, tugging on the jeans and button-up shirt. Bruce waved him off,

"If you want to that's perfectly fine, whenever you have the time." He said. Peter nodded, seeing how the clothes looked barely even baggy on him, let along the scientist,

"I'll be off then." He said, giving Steve and Bruce another thank you nod, "Need to keep up appearances."

"Let me escort you out." Steve suggested, "in case we run into anyone."

Peter had gone along with the idea, and they entered the elevator together, Steve reaching over to press the 1 at the very bottom of a four-column line of buttons that went up to 100,

"Holy crap that's a lot of floors." He muttered, and Steve chuckled,

"It still creeps me out." He said, crossing his arms and going into an army stance that made Peter even more nervous. Luckily they didn't meet up with anyone from the Stark Tower, and before Peter could protest that he could walk home, Steve had hailed taxi and had given him some cash to get home. He was still in disbelief throughout the ride, shaking his head and muttering under his breath about superheros. He asked the driver to stop about a block from his house, and after paying him Peter got out of the cab, relieved to be heading home.

When he got inside, he called out like he always did, "Aunt May, I'm home." He said, quickly running up the stairs towards his room. He had to make it seem like he had been at school. When he got to his room, he quickly locked the door behind him, the familiar 'tick' of the lock sliding into place as he pulled himself into some normal clothes, tossing the plastic bag that held his suit into his closet before dumping the contents of his backpack on the floor.

He heard footsteps starting up towards his room, so he unlocked the door once again, springing to the door to yank it open to see his Aunt coming towards his room,

"Aunt May, I am so sorry about the phone thing, I completely forgot it." He said, and she waved him away,

"It's fine Peter, as long as your friend let you borrow their phone." She sighed, putting her hands on her hips, "Who is this friend anyway?" she asked, and he found himself rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he had been caught lying,

"Um I sort of just grabbed someone with a cell when I realized I forgot mine." He muttered, and she scoffed at him, gently swatting his forehead,

"You need some friends honey." She murmured, turning back towards the stairs, "Dinner is going to be at four thirty, so I expect you to be down to help."

"Of course Aunt May!" he called back before gently shutting his door. He sighed heavily, leaning against the door, that was always too close for his liking. He hated lying to his Aunt, his only living relative, but he couldn't just blurt out, 'oh hey yeah I got bitten by a genetically altered spider that made me spiderman, hope you don't mind'.

His life was a mess, but that's what made it the life he loved. It wasn't just the bullying from Flash or the glances he gave Gwen. It was an adventure within itself, and he had a craving for adventure.


	5. Chapter 5 -Game Night-

**Alright this chapter is game night for the Avengers, sadly no Peter in it! It's also the start to the plot, so you have to read it anyway! ^-^**

"I suggest yahtzee." Steve began, and received four very loud groans,

"You always want to play yahtzee, what is it with old people and yahtzee?" Tony asked. The five avengers sat around the dining room table, discussing their game night. Thor had been gone from Earth for several months now, so it was just the five of them,

"What about Monopoly?" Clint asked, and a chorus of 'NO' made him flinch back. The last time they had played Monopoly Bruce had Hulked out, and it did not end well, especially since they had to disconnect Tony from the fridge, (in his suit) and get a new one. It also ended up with Clint in the rafters for a full twenty-four hours,

"Let's just go with dodgeball and end there, okay?" Natasha stated, and everyone looked around,

"Um…there are five of us." Tony pointed out, and Natasha grinned,

"Exactly, you get to be referee."

They played dodgeball.

It was Natasha and Steve against Clint and Bruce. Dodgeball in the Stark Tower didn't usually end well, but they all agreed that it was an awesome way for them to train as well as have fun. Bruce could even control his Hulk while playing, though he never used it until his teammate, singular or plural, were knocked out.

"Begin!" Tony yelled, sending a short blast from the gauntlet of his suit. His face plate was up, revealing him underneath, but if a dodgeball came his way, he wanted to be protected.

There were about fifteen dodgeballs lined up along the center of the gym they were in, which took up an entire floor by itself, with a few benches along the walls.

The four launched themselves forward, grabbing as many dodgeballs as they could before backpedalling to the free throw line, where they could begin to throw. The rules were just slightly changed in the game here as well. Catching wouldn't get you out, and you never. _EVER_. Hit Natasha in the head. The consequences were severe.

Steve was the first to throw, fast pitching his straight towards Bruce. He ducked neatly, chucking his back at Steve, while Natasha and Clint had their own little battle zone of blurred dodgeballs and the resounding 'crack' as it hit the back wall. Somehow Bruce and Steve managed to get each other out at the same exact time, so they went to join Tony at the bench, watching the war ensue between the two spies.

They finally slowed down enough to be seen, Natasha stalking along the half court, and Clint not too far away from her. They both held two dodgeballs, and with a throw that would make a faster pitcher blush, Clint threw one of his, though without meaning to, he nails Natasha in the head.

Everyone froze, and very quietly, Clint put down his other dodgeball and then sprinted for the elevator.

They had stopped dodgeball then, and Bruce had tended to Natasha's bloody nose when Steve deemed it safe to approach. All of them, besides Clint, who had disappeared, were now on the 62nd floor, the movie theater room. It had a kitchen filled with snacks, and a plasma screen TV almost taller than Steve, and wider than the couch the five were sharing. Tony was popping the popcorn, while Natasha and Steve debated on a movie,

"Have you seen _any _Disney movies?" Natasha asked him. Steve slowly shook his head, and Natasha's eyes widened before she started digging around in a large cabinet filled with movies before looking over at the kitchen, "TONY." She yelled, and there was the sound of a yelp of surprise and a thud before Tony poked his head out of the kitchen,

"What do you want?" he grumbled. She grinned,

"We're marathoning Disney tonight." She said, "Where do you keep them? I know you would have them." She turned back to the cabinets, and Tony sighed,

"Bottom left drawer." He muttered, turning back to finish the popcorn. Steve had really no idea what Disney was exactly, though from being in the public he had assumed it was some sort of television series for kids. Natasha pounced on the bottom drawer, pulling it open and squealing like a little girl while gesturing for Steve to join her.

He made his way to her side, his eyes widening at the sight of the children's movies nestled neatly in their drawer,

"Um…" was all he managed to get out, and Natasha grabbed _Spirit _from the collection,

"We're sooooo watching this one." She declared, tossing it to the side, "Now start going through them and pick."

While Steve began to go through them one at a time, Natasha snatched out _Sinbad_ and tossed it out as well, while Bruce simply chuckled at the two. Tony soon arrived with the three bowls of popcorn, and proceeded to ask everyone what they wanted to drink, while eyeing the pile of Disney movies that got bigger with every second,

"Before we do anything, I suggest we get Clint." Bruce suggested, and Natasha laughed,

"Good luck with that, he's probably up in the rafters again." She said. But before anyone could say anything about that, the alarms went off, blaring red and yellow from the light fashioned into the wall as JARVIS came online,

"_Sir, another chimera has been sighted in another back alley._"

The avengers looked at each other before racing out, Tony and Steve giving orders while Natasha began to pass out ear buds for communication. Tony went to get his suit, and they were met up in the lobby not two minutes later, Clint waiting for them,

"Took you long enough." Natasha snapped at the man, who flinched and hurried out the front door. Natasha gave Bruce and Steve a wink over her shoulder, and they all hurried outside,

"JARVIS gave me the coordinates." Tony said, hovering close to the ground in his suit, "Follow me."

Bruce grabbed Steve's arm, "Try to keep it alive this time." He said, "I want to analyze it." The captain nodded,

"We'll do our best, though I can't promise anything." The captain hurried off, leaving Bruce wondering what exactly they were dealing with.


	6. Chapter 6 -Morning Rise-

**Fangirl moment! Last I saw this story had 300 views and counting! That's amazing! Review please and thank you for the support! Also I'm giving credit to the creator of the villain of this superfamily universe. I do not know their name, but I know it's from Tumblr, so I do not own the Avengers, spider-man, or the villain of this universe. **

Like Bruce had instructed him, he managed to stay inside for the night, eating dinner with Aunt May before hiding away in his room to start working on his suit. His web shooters were fine now, and Bruce had even managed to get more webs for the compartments. As he pulled out a small, hidden box from his closet, he grabbed the plastic bag, setting up his work station in the corner of his room, directly in front of the door. It was locked, and if Aunt May decided to bother him he could hear her start to come up the stairs.

Luckily Peter was smart enough to realize that he might need more fabric later on, and he had gotten extra just in case. It came in handy for situations like this, and he was secretly glad that he had watched Aunt May sew up clothes when he was little. That experience combined with his science abilities, he was able to sow up his suit within several hours, and only stopping twice when he thought Aunt May was approaching his door, heart hammering in his chest.

Luck was with him, and his police scanner didn't go off once, leaving him to sleep peacefully all night. He didn't dream, or at least he didn't remember any dreams. When at last he opened his eyes, it was ten minutes before his alarm, and he felt pretty good, sleep wise. His wounds were sore, and his back was stiff when he sat up. He stretched his back out like a cat, arching his spine outwards before sitting up, running a hand through his hair. One day off from being spider-man, and then he would be fine. His paranoia got the better of him, and he found himself pulling on his spider-man suit on under his everyday clothes. It wasn't exactly a bad habit, but it made things awkward when he had to use the bathroom.

When he was dressed, he made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth and make sure his hair looked decent enough. Aunt May was trying to make him start using a comb on it, so if it looked really bad he would wet the comb and brush it out a little, but by the end of the day it always looked the same way, spiking up in any way possible. After he had finished with his teeth, he darted back into his room to grab his school supplies. A glint of light came from the corner of his eye, and he looked over to his desk to see his father's glasses sitting there, reflecting the morning light. He grinned, grabbing the spectacles before practically flipping down the stairs, the smell of eggs in the air,

"Morning Aunt May." He called out, seeing her long, dark, curly hair as he turned to head in the kitchen. She turned, smiling at him,

"Morning Peter, are you going to stay long enough for breakfast or are you going to rush out like you do?" she asked, giving him a motherly look. He grinned, setting his bag down,

"I can stay for breakfast." He told her as she took the skillet off the oven, turning it off,

"Good, and don't forget your phone today." She said, putting the eggs out on two plates. He dug his hand into his jacket, pulling out the cell phone within and holding it up for her to see,

"Got it." He announced, and she made her small 'hmph' of contentment. He chuckled as she put the plates on the table, and he grabbed the orange juice from the fridge. Aunt May was never usually picky, but when she had scrambled eggs, she had no pulp orange juice. It was the little things that made her happy. He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured out the drinks while Aunt May rinsed out the dishes at the sink,

"I don't want any fighting today." She said over her shoulder suddenly. He splashed the orange juice onto the counter, muttering and trying to get paper towels to clean it up,

"What made you think I was going to fight?" Peter asked, mopping up the mess. His aunt turned towards him,

"Because not three days of school go by do you come in that stupid door with bruises covering you!" she snapped. He winced, leaning against the counter. He had always tried his best to hide his bullying problem from Aunt May, because when she did notice, it broke his heart, and it stressed her out even more,

"Aunt May…I wish I could explain my situation…I just…can't." he slowly murmured, reaching around to put up the orange juice. When he turned back, Aunt May had her hands on her hips, in her stubborn stance,

"Well, you can explain it over breakfast." She said, making it known that it wasn't a suggestion. He sighed, picking up the glasses and moving to the table with Aunt May. She sat down across the table from him, the ketchup already waiting for them. When he sat down, he noticed that there were diced potatoes in the eggs, just the way that Aunt May loved them, "Now talk." She demanded as she poured the ketchup over her eggs. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he tried to sort it out in his head,

"It's been going on for quite a while. The teachers can't do anything about it, or they've never tried. And the other students just…I don't know…no one ever really seems to care about what Flash does to me." He muttered. He heard the sloshing of liquid, and saw that Aunt May had bumped her glass. He reached out and settled it with his hand,

"It's not a fight, Aunt May…because I never fight back. I can't." he finished. He couldn't meet Aunt May's eyes, and he wouldn't,

"So all this time…you were being bullied?" she asked quietly, he shrugged, sitting back in his seat,

"If that's what you want to call it." He muttered, and she started to shake her head,

"Bullying isn't allowed at your school, why hasn't anyone stopped this? Why haven't you gone to someone?" she asked, and he began to shake his own head, stabbing his eggs with his fork,

"I've gone to teachers before, and they've broken up one or two of our fights. They don't do crap. Aunt May, they're teachers, not military generals. Besides, I don't really care, as long as it's not anyone else getting hurt." He felt a hand brush his, and he looked up to see Aunt May staring at him,

"We'll figure something out." She vowed, and he smiled softly,

"You don't have to do anything, it's why I never told you in the first place." He stated, looking at the clock and nearly cursed, "Crap! I have to hurry or I'll be late!" he cried out, jumping to his feet and eating the eggs as fast as possible. Aunt May made a scoffing noise, and she watched her nephew with quiet amusement and worry as he hurried towards the door, thanking her for the eggs,

"That boy…" she muttered, beginning to eat her own eggs, and began to really think about what Peter had told her.


	7. Chapter 7 -Daily Agenda-

**Ok guys, so I'm going back through my story and I've decided to take things a little more slowly. Things go downhill as I'm trying to type quickly, but I want to have fun as well! Chapters are going to take longer to make no, but they'll be SO much better! Hope you guys understand, thank you so much for views, and if you have a few moments please review!**

Peter's day started slow, as he expected it to. He had ridden to school on his skateboard, wincing only once from his hip from he had to turn sharply to avoid hitting a tree. Besides that, he had a relatively pleasant first few periods, though he knew that Flash was lurking somewhere around the corner, just waiting to find Peter in the perfect position to pummel, or the perfect reason to.

It was lunch time when his doom approached. He was sitting by himself, as usual, while stealing glances over to Gwen, sitting several tables away. Aunt May had always packed his lunches, and he loved her famous peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, ever since he was a little kid. Along with that, he always got a fruit cup of some kind, today was pears, with a bottle of water and a packet of something like skittles. He had just started eating when the back of his neck tingled, and the bottom of his gut squeezed. He sighed, setting down his sandwich before suddenly moving to the seat next to him.

A hand came down onto the back of the chair he had just moved out of, and Flash let out a hiss of annoyance, yanking his stinging wrist back,

"Got super-senses now, Parker?" he snapped, lunging forward again to grab Peter's shoulder. This time he let the bully grab him, knowing that no matter how many times he dodged, Flash would just take it out on him more harshly later,

"Flash, I'm really not in the mood today." He muttered, being yanked to his feet. Peter's eyes flickered around the room, assessing any possible escape routes. Flash had two of his buddies with him, which gave him reason to beat up Peter. Everyone in the lunch room had quieted slightly, more and more eyes turning towards the pair by the minute,

"Oh, is that so, whelp?" Flash sneered, "That's a little too bad, cause I promised my friends some good old-fashioned fun!" with the ending part of his statement, he spun around, dragging Peter with him. The two friends were snickering under their breath, watching Flash slam Peter into a stone pillar in the cafeteria. Peter managed to keep some breath in his lungs, though the force of the slam got most of it out. Flash just grinned, seeming to have the time of his life as he raised his other fist, the one that had dragged Peter to the pillar in the first place now connected with Peter's collar.

His spider-senses were going crazy, but he somehow managed to stay like any other victim would. Flinch at any movement, struggle, and plead a few times, the usual.

The first blow came across his jaw, like the first blow that Flash had thrown on Peter. His head snapped to the side, and the cafeteria was now a chanting and screaming mass. Some cheering on the fight, others trying to stop it or get a teacher. Another blow came across Peter's ribs, and he sucked in a sharp breath, reflexively bending down, and straight into Flash's knee.

Before the fight could get any more brutal, as Flash pulled Peter's head back up by his hair, two teachers hurried over, tearing Flash away,

"This isn't over, Spotty!" he snapped, and Peter felt something warm dripping down to his lips. He wiped it away, looking down at his fingers to see blood. He cursed under his breath, realizing that his nose was bleeding. Gwen raced from the crowd, surprising the crap out of Peter as she knelt next to him, trying to press a napkin against his nose,

"Thanks." He muttered, though it was muffled from his nose. She smiled, though concern was in her eyes, surprising him even more,

"I don't know why he does this to you, you should really go to the nurse." She said to him as the crowd that had formed slowly began to go back to their tables, now that the show was over. He nearly burst out laughing at the words she had said to him. She was always telling him to go to the nurse. What was it with girl's and the nurse's office?

"I'm fine." He said, though it came out more as, "I'm fug." She smiled at him, shaking her head,

"This is a pretty bad nosebleed, and you need ice." She instructed, beginning to help him stand. His skin turned to flame wherever she touched, even through the clothing. His cheeks started turning red, and he moved his hand up so the napkin and his wrist covered his cheeks. She escorted him to the nurse's office, making sure he got what he needed. When the nurse asked if she should phone home, he nearly had an anxiety attack, shaking his head and ultimately making his nosebleed worse,

"You sure you'll be alright?" Gwen asked, having been sitting with him to make sure the bleeding stopped. He grinned and gave her a thumbs up, not wanting to sound like an idiot any further. He had gone through about four tissues and the napkins that Gwen had given him, though the napkins had no absorbing abilities whatsoever. She sighed and stood,

"Well, I'm going back to class…so…yeah…" She awkwardly started to back away, bumping into a bed on her way to the nurse's desk. He watched her, grinning like an idiot while the nurse wrote her a pass and sent her on her way. Gwen always seemed to be there when Flash came along, and had even saved him from a few beatings, even if that did make it worse the next time they crossed paths.

In the end, it only took a few more minutes for his nosebleed to stop, and he was sent back to class, everyone in the room turning to stare at him as he made his way to his desk. He kept his head down, muttering apologies for interrupting to the teacher as he gave the teacher his pass. He shuffled into the back of the room, slipping into his seat while the teacher continued on with the lesson.

He found he couldn't exactly concentrate the rest of the school day, maybe it was all the blows to the head he had taken in the past twenty-four hours, but his mind kept wandering in a million different directions. Like how the Avengers, how _the_ Avengers, had come across him in the back alley. Or how Bruce Banner had come into the team. The Avengers had always been half mystery, and half awesome to the public, only showing up when the city was being destroyed, or one at a time, taking care of a problem before disappearing once again into the Stark Tower, where they supposedly resided.

Peter thought about swinging by the Avengers place again, but decided against it. They didn't need someone like him stalking their every move. But then it occurred to him that he didn't know how to take stitches out, so he would have to do it anyway for his wounds. He sighed, shifting in his seat so he could sprawl his legs out in front of him. Everything was so chaotic, what was up with the weird chimera things, where did they come from, who made them? Too many questions were coming up, with absolutely no answers.

He slowly moved his pencil over his paper, drawing the spider symbol that rested on his chest beneath his t-shirt. Maybe when he dropped by to get the stitches out he could ask for any updates. Either way, he was going to be waiting a long while for any answers.


	8. Chapter 8 -The Findings-

When the Avengers had returned after the alarm, Bruce found himself overwhelmed with work. They had dragged in the dead remains of a beast that was most definitely a chimera. Thankfully no one had been hurt, though Tony had a few heavy dents in his suit,

"I'll be back after I fix up my rust bucket." Tony said, muttering under his breath about how 'Captain Tightpants needed to move faster'. Either way Bruce was stuck in a position that he loved yet hated. His investigation started off simple. What kind of creature was it? He surveyed the size and what the chimera was made of. It was easily as tall as the Hulk, though twice as long, including the tail. The tail was of a scorpion, with the face of what might have been a bobcat, though it was long since torn apart and warped, with the body of a very powerful dog. Upon closer inspection, Bruce found something intriguing, something that he couldn't wait to start analyzing. He grabbed several Petri dishes and collected a small chunk of fur or scale from each part of the chimera, moving to his microscope for further investigation.

When Tony had returned about an hour later, he found Bruce nearly shaking with emotions,

"You will not believe what this thing is made of!" the scientist exclaimed, looking through the microscope. Tony frowned, moving over towards his friend,

"What exactly is this thing made of?" he asked, glancing at the large, dead beast. Bruce looked up from the Petri dish, grinning from ear to ear,

"It's made of string." He stated, as if it was the most brilliant thing in the world,

"String?" Tony asked, and Bruce nodded, moving from the stool he had been sitting on and gestured for Tony to sit. He blinked, moving to sit on the stool, and looked into the microscope. Thousands of strings of different shades and widths made up the fur of the cats head,

"Holy shit…" he whispered, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. Bruce chuckled, switching out the Petri dish to one that was the piece of the scorpion tail,

"Now look." He said, and Tony leaned forward once again. This time, the string was like metal, thick and extremely hard to see,

"So what, we're going up against Grandma Knitter?" he asked, looking up at his scientist friend. Bruce shrugged,

"Don't ask me, you're the ones fighting it." He said, moving back towards the beast, "This entire thing is made up of strings, and I also found these." He grabbing something just above the shoulder joint of the creature, and Tony watched silently, not knowing what he was expecting to see. Bruce jerked his hand up as high as he could, with the shoulder joint following,

"It's a puppet." Tony gasped out, moving towards the chimera. Bruce nodded,

"There are these invisible strings attached to each joint of the body, though I can't cut them, see them, or do more basic things like blink the eye, or move individual parts of its paws." He moved around the chimera as he spoke, soon crouching down next to the end of the scorpion's tail, "I have yet to move on to the poison within the tail."

"There's poison?" he asked, moving to his friend's side. Bruce nodded,

"Most certainly, since the scorpion's tail is tenderer than the rest of the tail, but ever since you brought it back it seems to have lost all abilities to do anything, like its master as lost its connection to it." He muttered, resting his chin in his hand. Tony nodded, looking over the beast. It held multiple injuries from the Avengers, but if the thing wasn't real in the first place, then they had to find the boss and defeat him to rid the city of the chimeras,

"So how do we find Grandma Knitter?" Tony asked, "Any ideas on that?"

Bruce shook his head,

"I'm not sure with anything right now. Maybe if one of you keeps an eye on the skies while the others battle the chimera, you could find whoever is controlling it." He suggested. Tony grinned, patting his friend on the back,

"Thanks, that should help." He said, "Do you think we could look for a weakness for this thing?"

Bruce looked over at Tony, "We could find anything as long as we tried."

So they set themselves to work.

While the two scientists were working on their enemy, Clint and Natasha were working on their own inner enemies. They were in Natasha's room, speaking quietly. Their subject was Spider-man,

"Fury wants him in, and he will do anything to get the boy out of hiding." Clint muttered, sitting on the arm of a couch, one leg tucked under him, and his chin resting in his hand. Natasha lay on the couch beside him, her head next to his leg,

"Of course, Spider-man is an asset, a tool, just like the rest of us." She stated, "If he accepts, then nothing goes wrong, if he declines, then the whole world can turn around for him."

"But like Captain said, he's not even eighteen. Would Fury ask for a kid to join us?" Clint asked, looking down at her. She sighed, shrugging,

"There's no telling what he could do. He's been going after Spider-man's identity for months now, and he's close to getting it." She murmured. Clint sat up straighter, his eyes widening,

"I didn't know about this, how long have you known?!" he asked sharply. She winced,

"Only a few days, now cool down, we have to figure out if we should report Spidey to Fury, and that we know he's in Manhattan for sure." She said, and he listened, taking a second to calm down before eventually shaking his head,

"We couldn't do that to him, he's too young as it is." He muttered. She raised an eyebrow,

"You want to lie to Fury?" she asked, and he chuckled,

"Whoever said we were lying? We're simply not saying anything at all." He pointed out. She closed her eyes, not wanting Clint to see the concern in them, though it was evident in her voice,

"I just hope that he grows up quickly, for everyone's sakes."

**Hey guys, thanks so much for the views! (over 900!) I took longer than I thought I would with this chapter, and letting you know now I probably won't have the opportunity tomorrow to do the next chapter. **

**Review if you have a second, and enjoy! **


	9. Chapter 9 -The Knitter-

Time passed rather quickly for Peter, and his wounds were healing nicely. But the time that he had returned home, he could take off the many tiny bandages on his shoulders and face. The burn marks from the acid had practically vanished, and he would need his stitches taken out only tomorrow. He was officially relieved to have some good news for once, and what was even better was tomorrow was Saturday.

He spent some time working on some homework that he was late on, though his senses felt like they had been electrocuted, and he found it rather hard to stay focused on anything. He glanced at the clock, which read only just past eight, and he inwardly groaned. He had to wait for Aunt May to go to sleep for him to go out at night, since she was scared of Peter leaving the house after dark, because of Uncle Ben's accident. She wouldn't be going to bed for another hour or later, so he had to make up activities to do until then.

He cleaned up his room, tidying the usual messes into neater piles. He cleared the space under his window, remembering how many times he had tripped trying to get in or out of his room. When that was finished, he double checked his web shooters to make sure they were completely ready for the night's activities. They seemed to be in prime condition, so Peter turned to his suit, double checking where the tears had been. The spots he had redone looked brand new, so he found himself with nothing to do.

Bored out of his mind, he pulled on his headphones and plopped onto his bed, turning on the music rather loudly, and lost himself into the tunes.

The next time that Peter looked at the clock, it was almost ten. He pulled off his headphones, adrenaline beginning to work its way through his system as he opened his door, listening for his aunt. He could hear her deep breathing from her bedroom, which meant she had fallen asleep. He gently closed his door, pulling on his suit and grabbed a hoodie; the nights were getting chillier now. He didn't think he would need the hoodie for long, so he grabbed his backpack, which had an extra pair of clothes in them.

When he was set, he slipped out through his window, swinging off towards the main part of the city. He didn't expect much trouble tonight, unless another chimera decided to show up. Crime rates had dropped, and were dropping, because of not just the Avengers but also Spider-man prowling the night. He swung himself up to the top of a building, sitting down on a gargoyle that stuck out from the edge of the building. No police sirens shrieked for once, no fires, and what looked like to be a peaceful city rested at Peter's feet. Nothing could go wrong.

Of course, karma is a bitch, and as soon as Peter thought that, he found thick coils of rope wrapping around him from behind. He yelped out in surprise, wondering why in the world he hadn't sensed it as he was yanked from his perch. There was a deep chuckling from behind him as he was slowly drug away from the edge of the building, and Peter struggled, finding the rope extremely strong. Taking a closer look, he realized it wasn't rope, but string. Knitted string. He struggled all the more, to no avail, as he found himself at the feet of someone,

"Hello Spider-man." Said a deep voice above him, one that sounded awfully familiar yet extremely strange, "we finally meet face to face." The boots next to his face were a rich purple, laced with white string like spider webs up to the top of them. Peter's eyes traveled up, seeing black pants, a belt made of a knitted scarf, with two balls of yarn hanging from it, and two knitting needles sticking out on the other side. His eyes went further up, seeing a black shirt that was like a tank top, and a neck covered with a scarf, more knitting needles sticking up from the shoulders. Finally Peter got to the man's face, only covered by a black mask around the eyes. It was hard to tell what color his hair or eyes were from the dark lighting, but Peter found himself looking at the man in full. Besides the outfit, he had knitted gloves on, which were attached to two monsters, which held Peter captive. They were the same coloring as the man's scarf, belt and gloves,

"Um hi." Peter said, struggling against the hold of the monsters. The man chuckled again, flicking his fingers, and the monsters sat Peter up,

"I thought it high time we officially met." The man said, walking over to crouch in front of Peter, "I am most respectively known as The Knitter, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Spider-man." Peter looked the man up and down again,

"Um yeah, nice to know who's holding me captive." Peter muttered sarcastically, and The Knitter's face turned into a pout,

"Oh, we've met before, only once, but it was a meeting." He said, "the chimera's are all my pets, my little guard dogs." Peter's memory went back to the night he had been chased through the alleyway by the enormous creature,

"Wait, that thing was made of string?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around all this. The Knitter bows deeply,

"The one and only creator of a chimera." He said, chuckling again. Peter frowned, struggling against the creatures once again,

"So what do you want? What's your grand plan?" Peter asked, and The Knitter roared with laughter, taking Peter's chin in his hand,

"Oh, I won't tell you all that just yet." He said softly, nearly whispering it, "There's a reason why I'm the villain of this story, you just have to collect all the clues, and figure it out yourself." He released Peter, including the monster's grips, and he gave Peter a small wave before dropping over the side of the building.

Peter rushed over to the edge, looking down to see The Knitter using his thick strings and creatures to slowly lower himself to the ground, and disappear into the city.

**Yayyy, finally meeting the villain! I do not own him, sadly, and I give credit to Tumblr for his creation. Also tomorrow I'm going to be leaving a few days (*sobs*) so I won't be able to write any chapters. Also thank you for so many views! (over 1, 400!) and if you have a moment, review if you want and enjoy the story, more chapters will be coming!**


	10. Chapter 10 -Dismissing-

**Finally back and typing away! I decided to find a link to The Knitter, and found it, so here it is:**

** /this-guy-should-be-some-crazy-villain/**

**And now to the story:**

Luckily the weekend had arrived for Peter, and he rushed over to the Stark Towers, just barely remembering Bruce's clothing he had borrowed. He had stuffed the shirt and pants into a spare backpack, hoping for some answers. He hurried out the door, throwing a quick excuse to his Aunt May that he was going for a ride out on his skateboard, which was not entirely a lie.

He had rushed towards the tower, knowing he would have to stop outside to climb up as Spider-man. It occurred to him that he could just tell them all who he was, but a voice in the back of his head said it would come back to bite him in the butt, so he decided to keep silent, at least a while longer.

He switched to his suit in a back alley next to the Stark Tower, triple checking to make sure no one was around before swinging out of the alleyway, his backpack on his shoulders. It was easy for him to locate Bruce's rooms, or easier than Peter had thought it would be. He landed lightly outside on the balcony, knocking to get the scientist's attention. Bruce looked up in surprise, but his expression softened when he saw it was only Peter. He stood, opening the door to allow the young superhero inside,

"Hello Spider-man, welcome back." He said politely, though there was a friendly look in his eyes,

"Hello Bruce." He said in return, nodding, "Sorry to bother you." Now that Peter was inside without the glare of the sun on the glass in his eyes, he realized that a dead chimera was lying in several parts around the room, it seeming more like string than life-like,

"I'm guessing you came for several reasons, what can I do for you?" Bruce asked, returning to his work. Peter took off his backpack,

"Three things. One, I brought your clothes back, washed and everything." He said, pulling out the clothes. Bruce chuckled, taking them from Peter and laying them on the bed that Peter had been on only a few days before, "Two, I'm going to need the stitches out." At that, Bruce's eyebrows came up, but he didn't question anything as he made the young superhero sit down,

"I'm going to need to see the stitches." He said, moving to get his medical bag. Peter grinned under his mask, having planned ahead for that. He took some staples out of his suit around where the hip wound was, and the piece of clothing fell open to reveal the stitches. All he had to do to get to his chest was pull down the suit, the leg was the hardest. Bruce came back, beginning to work on his leg,

"What was your third thing?" he asked, glancing up at the young hero. Peter looked up at the chimera,

"I met the villain, and it seems you guys have too." He said. Bruce stopped, looking up at Peter,

"They've only met the monsters he sends out, the chimera's." he said, frowning, "You've met the actual guy behind this?" he asked. Peter nodded,

"Yep, he calls himself The Knitter." Bruce snorted in amusement, catching Peter off guard,

"Tony calls him Grandma Knitter." He muttered, beginning to take out the stitches. It stung, but it wasn't too painful. He grunted in amusement,

"So what exactly are these things, the chimeras?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Bruce 'hm 'ed before answering, his concentration on Peter's leg,

"They're made of knitted string, durable and hard to cut, like made out of strings of metal." He muttered, pulling a stitch particularly hard, making Peter wince, "Tony and I looked into it, and it seems each part of the animal is vulnerable to a different thing."

"What's the weak points of this thing then?" Peter asked, and Bruce chuckled again,

"Well, we only know two out of three so far, but it won't take us much longer." He said, finishing up the leg before motioning for Peter to let him get to the stitches on his chest. Peter moved quickly, his gloved hands pulling down his suit as Bruce continued speaking,

"The dog body's weakness is dirt. It clogs the joints…er…string, and keeps it from moving. The cat's head's weakness is fire. Light up the sucker and it's over. The only thing we don't know is the scorpion tail's weakness."

Peter's eyes reflexively moved to where the large scorpion tail lay stretched across a lab table, several samples of different chemicals, most likely, lay around it,

"So we can fight them relatively easy now, and take them down faster." Peter stated, and Bruce nodded,

"You can take them down quickly enough, though if you fought a group at once you would win faster than you could say 'time out'."

Peter sat there for several rather still moments, and Bruce stepped back, finishing his quick work,

"So what's the plan for these things?" Peter eventually asked, working on his suit next to his leg. Bruce sighed,

"I really don't know. Tony and The Captain are trying to locate this Knitter, while Hawkeye and Black Widow are looking into things with their superiors."

"So all we can do is wait?" Peter asked, and Bruce nodded, sitting down in front of the young superhero,

"All we can do is wait."


	11. Chapter 11 -Coffee Mugs-

Waiting was not something Peter did very well. He could sit in a classroom with pencils, paper, and a window to stare out of for the day, with five minute intervals and the occasional fight with Flash, but waiting for a villain to finally make his move was something that Peter could not take. The Avengers went on with their usual routines, fighting crime, keeping peace, having movie nights. Peter did his own schedule, going to school, keeping up with homework, the usual.

The Knitter had vanished into thin air, and Bruce was no closer to finding the weakness of the scorpion tail. They had absolutely no leads on who he was, so all they could do was wait.

And that was something that Peter does not do very well.

It was Thursday, five days since his last conversation with Bruce, and he had gotten far too restless to stay still. He skate-boarded his way to the Stark Tower, dropping all formalities he once had about keeping his secret. They were the Avengers, and like Bruce and Steve had told him, they didn't know who he was. It took him quite a bit, since he had to get through traffic and not go over it, but when he arrived, it seemed that they had been expecting him.

He stepped off his skateboard, his backpack hanging from one of his shoulders. Steve came out of the front door, gesturing for him to come inside,

"I'm surprised you're not wearing your suit, Spider-man." The Captain said, glancing at the teenager in his hoodie, skinny jeans, and converse,

"At this point, I don't really care." Peter muttered, "And you can call me Peter." Steve led them to the elevator, past the main lobby, and Steve raised an eyebrow at the young hero as they stepped inside,

"Is that your real name or just one you'll respond to?" he asked. Peter just grinned, suppressing the urge to wink at_ the_ Captain America. Steve merely shrugged, leaving it at that. The ride up the elevator felt like an eternity to the young hero, and ever since his encounter with The Knitter, it felt like his senses had gone haywire. His hearing had sharpened beyond anything he could have imagined, as well as his eyesight, even if he wore his father's glasses, and his "spider sense" was tingling every two to four seconds. His restless behavior must have been really noticeable, because Steve chuckled under his breath,

"Nervous?" he asked, looking over at Peter. He grinned again,

"A little." He confessed, "But then again, I'm always a little scared of something." Steve nodded, and in the soldiers own thoughts, he knew that it was a perfect answer,

"I saw you coming, so I've asked everyone to meet us in the conference room." The Captain explained as the numbers continued to climb for the elevator, "We're discussing some ways to make this guy come out of hiding."

As soon as he finished speaking, it was as if Captain America had rehearsed it, the elevator went 'ding' and the door opened to an enormous conference room, complete with a tray filled with coffee mugs and snacks. All the Avengers were there, besides Thor, of course, and they all looked up at Peter and Steve as they stepped out of the elevator,

"Who's this?" Tony asked, taking in Peter's skateboard, messy hair, sleepless eyes, and teenager looks. Bruce just sighed in his chair, going through some notes, while Natasha seemed to get the picture as Steve gestured to Peter,

"This is Spider-man, also known as Peter." Peter gave a little wave and a small grin, though it was forced. There was a fly in the room, and it was beginning to annoy him,

"Isn't he a little…young?" Clint asked, and Peter sighed,

"I'm seventeen." He muttered, and Steve stepped forward, taking a seat in one of the chairs,

"He's one of us." Steve stated, "Whether we all like it or not."

"He's still a kid." Tony pointed out,

"I can hear you, rather well." Peter muttered, and Natasha turned on Steve,

"Do you expect a teenager to help us fight this guy?" she snapped,

"He's fought plenty of villains just fine." Steve snapped back. The bickering continued, and Peter snapped, dropping his skateboard and backpack,

"STOP IT." He yelled out, "YOU'RE ALL DRIVING ME MAD!" that got everyone's attention, and with everyone's eyes on him, he felt even worse. He flailed his arms, feeling as if there was something covering him as his spider sense went off more than usual. And that fly was REALLY annoying. He ran his hands through his hair before snapping again, and a quick shot across the room pinned the fly to the wall with amazing accuracy. Jaws dropped, and eyes widened in surprise while he just collapsed into a chair, putting his head in his hands,

"Finally some quiet…" he muttered under his breath, and for once, it was quiet. Then he heard someone beginning to move, and the sound of rustling fabric and the sound of a chair being pushed out grinded through Peter's senses,

"How long has it been since you last slept, kid?" Tony asked, and Peter sat back, waving a hand to dismiss the question,

"Does it really matter?" he asked back. Natasha and Clint shared a look, while Bruce got up from his seat,

"Will you answer some questions for me?" Bruce asked, and Peter frowned, confused,

"Um…sure?" he said, more of a question than an affirmative. Bruce walked around the table, before cupping his hands over Peter's eyes. He flinched at first from the contact, but didn't struggle. He couldn't see a thing, and he was beginning to understand what was going on. A few seconds of pure silence rang through, and then people started moving,

"What can you tell us?" Bruce asked, and Peter closed his eyes, he wouldn't need them, would he? His hands were resting on the table, and he could feel his fingers twitching uncontrollably as he listened as hard as he could,

"You're all doing something." He started, hesitantly, trying to get a picture in his mind while using his senses to see what he could "see", "Someone is…dancing?"

"Can you say who?" Bruce asked, and Peter swallowed hard. It wasn't a test for Peter, but rather for the Avengers. If he had heard the fly, and had shot at it without looking, then the kid had some amazing talents. Peter used what knowledge he had and placed the pieces of the puzzle together, or rather, placing the sound of the footsteps to the person,

"Captain America is dancing." He stated. There was a grunt of surprise, before one set of footsteps stopped,

"Good, what else?" Bruce asked. Peter counted the sounds of the footsteps, there were only two others, but there were three more to figure out. Which meant that someone either wasn't moving…or being carried. There was tons of movement directly in front of him, but only one set of footprints. It didn't take him long to figure out what was going on from there,

"Hawkeye is holding Natasha over his shoulder, and she's struggling to get out." He guessed, which was pretty close. Clint looked up at Natasha, who was lying across his shoulders. She hadn't been struggling though; she had been trying to flip Clint,

"Good, now what would Tony be doing?" Bruce asked, and Peter's focus went to the last person in the room. The whole room seemed to freeze, and Peter heard someone suck in a sharp breath the very second his spider senses shot through him. His muscles tensed, and his hands that were resting on the table pushed down. There were several sounds of crashing, and Peter's ears nearly burst from all the noise.

Bruce's hands left Peter's face, and he surveyed what had happened. Tony stood off to the side, almost in front of Peter, but on the other side of the flipped table. The table lay on its side, with the chairs that had been caught in its turn lay on their own sides or were rolling away. Peter slowly got to his feet, looking over the edge of the table to see a broken mug lying on the floor,

"Good reflexes." Clint muttered, receiving a slap on the back of the head from Natasha,

"You sir, need to train with us." Tony said, hands on his hips. Peter slowly looked up at the billionaire, wondering what the hell just happened.

**I know I know no villain, but at least there was some superhero time! If you guys wanted to know Steve was doing the waltz on his own and Tony threw the coffee mug at Peter, causing him to flip the table. **

**Review if you have a moment and I hope you guys are enjoying the story! (well over 2,000 views!)**


	12. Chapter 12 -Training-

The day after Peter's snap in the conference room, he had left the Stark Tower with barely a word or a glance over his shoulder. But what he hadn't seen was the new look of respect that even Tony was giving him. Natasha and Steve had immediately stepped forward to help the teenager train, with a reluctant Clint soon behind them. They agreed to have Peter over the next day when he was able to come, and Peter had simply nodded at the request. When he had left, Steve turned to look at the others,

"Does anyone else have a feeling that he doesn't usually act like that?" Natasha murmured quietly as Steve moved to start picking up the shards of the mug on the ground,

"We can't force him to do anything he doesn't want to though, he's a stubborn one." Bruce stated off to the side, giving Steve a trash bin to put the shards in,

"But I'm just saying, he seems like a kid that can't even talk to a girl without getting awkward." Natasha pointed out,

"That's all men." Tony muttered, the first thing he had said since the conversation had started. Clint chuckled off to the side, and Natasha threw a death glare in the direction of the men,

"You know what I mean!" She hissed, and Tony sighed, giving up on trying to joke around her,

"Either way," Steve murmured off to the side, "He still needs to be trained and assessed if he's going to be a part of this team."

And for the first time in a long while, the Avengers could all agree. They had had their arguments, but Peter was something they could all have a say on, and he was something they all wanted to protect.

The next day, after the usual tiring antics surrounding Peter's life, he managed to slip out of the house, with a yell over his shoulder to Aunt May that he had a science project to work on with some friends. At the word 'friends' she gave him a knowing look, and all he could was shrug as he grabbed his skateboard that leaned on the wall next to the door, slipping out the door before she could protest. He quickly got into the rhythm of his skateboard, leaning lazily from side to side to turn or avoid the crowds that had somehow magically appeared on the downtown sidewalks. His mind was not truly there though. It was in a distant world, where most of his thoughts and unanswered questions resided. There was a simple one that had haunted him since his experience of meeting The Knitter, and that was: why hadn't he killed Peter? It would have been so easy, but the strange villain hadn't even given him a scratch. Killing or even just kidnapping him would have put one of the many protectors of the city out of commission, giving The Knitter a pretty clear shot to whatever he wanted. Even with the Avengers close by, they still had their own set of orders, and in a sense they were on a simple leave while Fury looked for something for them to do.

Peter's thoughts were momentarily broken when he almost ran over a boy of about eleven as he ran in front of Peter, calling out to his friends close by. He stepped off the skateboard, stopping and watching the group of four boys, and a tiny girl, run off along the sidewalk. A smile wormed its way onto Peter's face, before he started back up, pushing off and heading down into the more busy streets of Manhattan.

The next question that came up was the most frustrating: who the hell was The Knitter? He acted like he had the world wrapped around his pinky, and had nothing to lose. It reminded Peter of the preps at school, thinking that just because their parents were rich or because their parents had a nice job that everything would be handed to them.

He shook his head, nearly running into a light pole in the process. The rest of his ride to the tower was done in silence, and even Peter's hyper-active senses managed to calm down enough for his headache to fade away for several minutes. It was ruined by the time he entered the tower and made his way to the 25th floor. Bruce and Natasha were arguing, with a nervous Clint and Steve nearby. The room was filled with different pieces of equipment, including what looked like a stack of plates, a large set of throwing knives, and a strangely arranged array of targets along the back wall,

"He's injured as it is, I shouldn't even be allowing him to go to school, let alone train with you two." Bruce snapped, and Peter's eyebrow shot up. His injuries were practically gone, besides a scratch or two, and the fresh bruises on his jaw and ribs from Flash's latest fun,

"He's stronger than he looks, he'll be fine." Natasha snapped back, hands on her curved hips. Bruce looked like he was starting to shake, from anger or concern, he couldn't tell. He chose that opportunity to clear his throat, catching everyone's attention,

"Peter...how long have you been there?" Steve asked, and Peter shrugged,

"Long enough." He muttered, turning to Bruce, "I'm fine, really. Besides I want to do this, I haven't actually trained with anyone on my...abilities." he said, rubbing the back of his neck while setting his backpack and skateboard on a bench next to the elevator. They seemed to believe him, at least enough to relax. Bruce simply shook his head, walking towards the elevator,

"Fine then, just don't come screaming to me when one of you gets hurt." He muttered, practically punching the bottom to bring the elevator to the floor, going up,

"We won't have to come to you." Natasha muttered, while Steve sighed softly in relief, turning to walk off while the elevator doors opened, and Bruce took his leave,

"I really have no idea what I'm doing here, thank you very much." Clint muttered off to the side, and Natasha rolled her eyes,

"Come on sissy, we have a spider to train." She said, grabbing Peter's arm to start dragging him towards a boxing ring that he hadn't noticed before now.

**You guys probably hate me for taking so long with this chapter, then to find out that's its so short doesn't help things. But I have excuses! I do! A few weeks back my computer decided to get up and die on me, cutting me off from all internet connections...**

**A close friend is letting me borrow a phone that can type out chapters, and connect to the internet until my computer is fixed, but today I found out I won't be getting it fixed. The harddrive and the battery are fried, and it would just be cheaper to get a new computer, which I don't have the money for (thanks a lot fandoms) so I'm stuck to writing short chapters in my spare time between reading fanfiction and doing homework for school that just started. **

**Anyway don't hate me too bad, I'll try my hardest to keep up and speed up the storyline -**


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